


Reaper's Demons

by Omi_Smith



Series: Pwnyta's Peeps [3]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: AU - Pwnyta, Alternate Universe, Dark, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 21:24:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20396383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omi_Smith/pseuds/Omi_Smith
Summary: A one-shot series focusing on minor characters from other stories in the Pwnyta AU. These particular characters are members of a mafia group whose leader is known in the underworld as the Reaper. The Reaper's true identity is a tightly guarded secret, so much so that most of the members don't know who their boss is. The reason he keeps his identity so closely guarded is to protect his precious people who are not involved in the criminal underworld. In truth, the Reaper is Esi Brant, also known as Sickle, and is a member of RED, the reigning Champion team of Kanto. Due to the title, the team is already at a high risk of danger from sabotages, assassins, and the like. If any hint of his identity spreads, his skill and his organization may not be enough to protect his team.Likewise, Sickle's entire organization is hidden from his team since he doesn't want any of them to get involved or anywhere near the people involved in the underworld. Sickle's mafia organization is known as the Reaper's Shroud in the criminal underworld and as the Union (or Sickle's Union, because Sickle never gave a name for the organization when questioned by his team; he just claims to "work" for "the Union") to his team and others.





	Reaper's Demons

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pwnyta](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Pwnyta).

> Written: November 25, 2018. No beta.
> 
> Based off of the Pokémon gijinka/personifications created by an artist of many names whose tumblr is Pwnyta (http://pwnyta.tumblr.com/) and whose twitter is Tony @BaWCatGod (https://twitter.com/BaWCatGod). As such, this AU is inspired by the Pokémon franchise but does not contain any individual characters from the franchise beyond the concept of the different Pokémon species, with few exceptions.
> 
> This particular one-shot is based on the comic about the Candyman in pwnyta's art dump here: https://pwnyta.tumblr.com/post/180472741029/pokemon-doodles-betcha-didnt-see-that-coming  
The comic involves an Alolan Muk named Candyman, who happens to be one of many characters involved in a… gang/mafia thing going on in Pwnyta’s world that I had needed to make up for story purposes (referring to several other stories). Anyway, I liked the comic enough to put a little more meat on the bones.

Hundreds of voices drone endlessly on, even here in the depth of night. They layer thickly over each other, obscuring themselves into incomprehensibility, all the while underscored by the thuds and taps of footsteps, the growling of motors from passing vehicles, and the banging of music struggling to be heard over the din. Despite the crowds, none look too closely into the depths of the alleyways – too filthy, too obscure, too putrid, and too dangerous. It’s far too easy for predators to conceal themselves there within the dark. No one witnesses the shimmering toxic sludge oozing through the cracks of a condemned warehouse and falls with a wet plop onto the disgustingly dirty concrete below. It amasses, gurgling sickeningly as it forms and solidifies into a man. Excess sludge slides slowly down his arms and drips off his fingers as he reaches for a pair of glasses newly reassembled after the tight squeeze. He firmly sets them back into place. Shoving his hands into his coat, he begins his stoic wait. It won’t be long before his prey stumbles by, and the man can give ‘em the boss’s message.

‘_Fuck – I’m so fucked…’ _Nervously, the Mr. Mime checks once more over his shoulder. No one was there, just like every other time he checked. But he knows, with a certainty that burrowed deep into his marrow, that it was only a matter of time. Really, he shouldn’t be worried – not if he had confidence in that mafia’s ability to keep its own secrets, especially with that Zoroark in charge of security. And would that Musharna - Caedere fucking Mangata - actually employ anyone that would betray him? With the exception of the Spider, of course. That psychopathic Galvantula was apparently enough of an asset to be worth the risk. Nonetheless, there is not a logical reason for him to be so paranoid. Still, though. Foreigners like them … they never seriously consider whose turf they are encroaching on. Especially when that turf belongs to the fucking Reaper since the blasted Scyther keeps his movements and his people so tightly under wraps that they may as well be local myth and cryptids. Anyone worth their salt in this business knows they exist even if actual information on them is as rare as Mega Stones or Z-Crystals. The smart ones even know to fear them. The damned ones, though… They might know just enough to be useful. Like how the Reaper LOOKS like. 

The foreigners have a dark reputation, even here in Kanto, so it isn’t too surprising to see them moving in the area. _‘It’s not like I could tell the Spider “no”,_’ he reasons as he hurries down the sidewalk toward his safe house. Even if the Reaper or his demons hear about his meeting with the Spider, they couldn’t really blame him, right? Between the stark reputation of the Spider and the shrouded enigmatic rumors of the Reaper, surely the Spider is the true threat. But… _‘Would he be worse than THAT guy though?!’_ As one of the damned, he’s seen the face of the Reaper before. And since that day, he’s never known true peace again. He can _feel_ them – the Reaper’s demons – watching his every move, just waiting to claw him down, into the abyss. After all, to have a reputation like the Spider’s automatically means there were survivors. To NOT have a reputation, only whispers of rumors … would that mean no one has survived the Reaper? _‘Fuck.’_ Surely… Surely it would be fine. He’s a fence; that’s it. A man who’ll pay for the odd trinket or treasure and sell it again on the black market. He’s never traded in information like this before, so why would the Reaper have people watch him? And the foreigners! They _do_ have a rep, but that doesn’t mean they don’t know confidentiality. That information – the Reaper’s physical description – it’s valuable, beyond anything they had before they sent the Spider to meet with him! That makes him an asset, doesn’t it? Someone worth keeping around? ‘_Fuck._’ He’s almost there, just one more block. He glances once more over his shoulder and scans the road, checking the thinning crowd on either side. This side of town starts to get eerie around this time. It’s peak bar hour – most of the night folk already found their barstools for the night. And while the din of human voices and the reverberations of pulsing bass fill the air and shake the pavement, there aren’t many people on the street unless they are crowded around nightclubs, the last of which he just left behind. For all his paranoia and vigilance, he still neglects to really check the alleyway behind him, eyes skipping past its gloom. 

From the shadows, a dark gritty baritone voice slowly, lowly rubbles as if from the dankest depths of a rotting hell pit, “You. The ‘Mime.” He freezes, petrified. Through the gloom, he can just make out the form of a ‘mon. A big ‘mon. “Reaper’s come calling for you.”

_ ‘FUCK.’_


End file.
